


On Top of the World

by RosemarysBabysitter (TashaElizabeth)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Community: wrestlingkink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8619349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaElizabeth/pseuds/RosemarysBabysitter
Summary: There were only a handful of things in the world that made Dean slow down. One of those things was fighting. Another one was Roman.





	

There were only a handful of things in the world that made Dean slow down. Really slow, so that his brain was ticking over like an easy engine and he didn’t have to jerk his neck or hitch his shoulders. One of those things was fighting. He’d take a couple of punches to the head and get the wind knocked out of him, watch the world go sparkling. 

Another one of those things was Roman.

Not every time. Dean could go wild and whimpering under Roman’s hands too and sometimes that was just what he needed. But other times, when it was really good, Roman could make time stop.

Usually on the second or third day of a rare no-work long weekend. Usually when they hadn’t gotten out of bed for ten or twelve hours, that helped. It helped for him to have come once already too. To be tired and sticky and feeling soft. It helped, even if he didn’t want to admit it, for him to be wearing Roman’s shirt from the day before, the fabric loose around his stomach and collar bones, Roman’s smell all over him.

Roman had taken a good long time working him over. Digging his thumbs into the knots in Dean’s back and shoulders. Scraping his teeth against Dean’s ear and neck. Crooning whispers into Dean’s ear and then when Dean tried to talk back shushing him with his fingers and lips. Roman wanted him wordless and moaning and he got it. Wanted him open and easy, wriggling back against Roman’s slick fingers. Roman laughed at Dean’s whining. Then he rolled onto his back and pulled back the sheet to reveal his thick stiff cock.

“Get on up there, baby.” Roman’s voice heavy and happy. Dean focused and eager to please.

Roman said his eyes looked like huge when he got like this, pupils so wide and swollen that he looked concussed. Dean wouldn’t have been surprised if that was true. It would have explained the way the everything went so clear and vivid. The way the color of Roman’s eyes seemed like the most important thing in the world. 

Roman was big all over and even half out of his mind Dean had to breathe through his nose and wince at the burn. Roman coaxed him down sweet, hands soft and soothing on his knees, his thighs, until he was all the way seated. Dean with his head bowed, one hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“You got it,” Roman said through a smile. “You got it.” 

He had it. Yes, he did, he had Roman. Roman tight between his legs. Roman inside him, achingly full of him. Dean let go of Roman’s shoulder, straightened back, threw his head up. Roman sometimes wanted to touch him then, stroke the long line of him from jaw and throat to chest and belly, but that was so distracting. That changed the tone. Better this time for him to stay clear and simple. 

“Oh, yeah,” Roman said and offered up his palms for Dean to press against. Dean accepted them, interlacing his fingers with Roman’s, the right hand still wet and soft with lube.

Dean had to tell himself to move. Dean never had to tell himself to move, woke up bouncing and bobbing, only here. Isolate the muscles of the thighs and raise up, down. Up and down. Roman so big and hard, sliding along him until he found that place between his thighs and Roman’s grasping hands that drew him back again and again. 

A hitch in his gut curled him forward and if he’d had any words he’d have been spitting them out _I love you, I love you._

“You do that so good,” Roman said, his back arched, chin thrust up. “Baby boy, you do that, oh, oh.” 

A spike of pride through the haze of his pleasure. He did that. He made this gorgeous man ache and crumble and come. He did it and he could do it again, as many time as he wanted to with his mouth and his hands and the tip of his dick sliding into Roman and, and, and…

“Come on, baby. Come on, Dean.”

Yes. Coming with a groan like he’d been sucker punched and the sound of it strobing in and out, so good all he could hear was his own hot blood. So good the molecules in the air stopped moving, the beating of his heart vanished, every thought and memory was blasted out of his brain. Scrubbed clean and pure and Roman.

White light and stillness.

He followed himself back to the sound of his breathing, the feel of sweat all over his body, Roman’s voice murmuring, “good job. You did such a good job.” Dean fell to the side and Roman was sitting up to guide him down, taking off his shirt and wiping him down with the soft cotton. “You were amazing.” 

Dean made a noise, not a word yet but with intent behind it. 

“I know.” Roman said, cleaning off the back of his legs. He eased a pillow under Dean’s face. “I know how hard that is for you. You were so beautiful. You did such a good job.” Roman put the covers over him, all the way over his head, and laid down against his back. Dean curled up under the weight of his heavy arm and slept, basking, like a cat in the sun.


End file.
